Therapy with Snape
by Witticism-fails-me
Summary: SS/HP Pretty self-explanatory title: Harry's in therapy, Snape's the therapist. Rated T for some bad language. Well...copious amounts of it... Two chapters now, due to sudden creative streak inspired by a cold.
1. First attempt

"Name?"

"Harry Potter."

"Age?"

"Er, nine?"

"Is that a question or an answer?"

"Look, why are we doing this anyways? It's not like pretending I'm 11 again is going to solve anything, it's stupid!"

"Are you saying that a technique that has been tested and proven countless times, recommended by the best therapists in the world, and successfully used in many cases when there is thought to be no hope, is useless and stupid?"

"And what if I am?"

"Then you are useless and stupid."

"Grrr, fine. I'll do it. But only because I have nothing better to do."

"Whatever excuse floats your leaking boat Potter, can we continue?"

"…"

"I'll take that as a yes. We'll have to start over you know, since you found that your greatness can interrupt whenever you feel in the mood to."

"Whatever."

"Quit being so insolent. Now, your name?"

"Harry Potter."

"Age?"

"Nine."

"What are you doing?"

"Gardening."

"Please, elaborate?"

"I'm tending to the snapdragons that my Aunt bought, thinking that they would make the garden prettier and the neighbors envious."

"Please, more details. Use your senses, what do you smell? See? Hear? What are you thinking as you complete this task?"

"…Fine. I smell freshly churned dirt, I see the ugly little petals of the pansies and I can hear the buzzing of a bee near my head and a lawn mower a few yards over. Oversized gardening gloves chaff at my fingers and palms as I dig holes in the planter for the flowers. I wish I could take them off and use just my hands, but I can't. I'm not allowed to."

"Why aren't you allowed to?"

"…"

"Tell me Potter, or you'll be stuck here all night."

"My aunt doesn't like me using my hands, says that I'd get all sorts of diseases."

"How touching, she cares for your well being."

"Not really."

"And why do you say that Potter?"

"She doesn't say that for me, she just doesn't want me to make them all sick. She couldn't care less about my wellbeing."

"Oh?"

"Yes. You don't believe me?"

"It's hard to believe, Potter."

"Well, if this 'therapy' session is going to go anywhere, you might as well start. Or we could just end it here and I can go back to 'flaunting my fame', as you love to call it."

"That's what it is."

"How? All I'm doing is teaching!"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Alright, I'm lost."

"A common condition in your case, Potter."

"Shut up, I'm trying to talk!"

"Oh no, Harry Potter wants to talk! When don't you?"

"…I bet every time you sneer a puppy dies, cruel bastard."

"We're off subject, Potter."

"And whose fault is that, Snape?"

"Yours, obviously."

"It is _not_!"

"Oh really?"

"_Really_!"

"Proof please."

"Grrr, this is why you never got a date when you were younger."

"How do you know that I never got a date?"

"It's a known fact, Snape."

"You mean a rumor? Dear Merlin, Potter, your grammar is atrocious. Can't even use the right word, I pity you. I truly do."

"You know what?"

"What, Potter? Do tell, I fear that I might wither and waste away if you fail to share your wise words of wisdom upon this sinner's soul."

"…I'm leaving."

"Good riddance."

"You can tell Albus-"

"Professor Dumbledore."

"-why I'm not coming back."

"With pleasure."

"Oh, and one more thing?"

"Yes, Potter? What whiny remark must you make now?"

"I love you."

"Beautiful, now ge-…what?"

* * *

My first new fic. *sighs in relief* got that over with finally...

Yeah, I know, It's not _that_ great and all, since it's all dialogue. But as they say! Words speak better than words!

A very mild slash, heck, if you want, it can be no slash at all. Just delude yourself into thinking that Harry only said that to Sevvy 'cause he wanted to find something to startle the man who can't be startled, maybe in revenge. But for all you hopefuls, who did delude yourself in thinking that...guess what? HE MEANT IT! Muahahaha, oh that felt great. Crushing the dreams of you little straight Harry fans. Heehee.

~If you liked it and you know it click 'review'!~If you liked it and you know it click 'review'!~If you liked it and you know it, and you really wanna show it...~If you liked it and you know it click 'review'!~(sung to the tune of 'if you're happy and you know it')


	2. Success bitches!

"Severus! I missed you!"

"..."

"Well, _excuuuse _me! You don't have to look so disgusted, do you look at your mother with that face?"

"No, but I look at _you_ with this face. What in the bloody name of Merlin are you doing back in my office?"

"Therapy, of course."

"I do recall the both of us coming to a rare agreement on the halt of that useless endeavor."

"Ah, well, Dumbles thought we should give it another go."

"If you keep smiling at me like that I swear to whoever is up there, you will find yourself spleenless."

"Oh but _Severus_!"

"...Don't call me that."

"_Whyyyy?"_

"Just. Don't."

"Meh, fine. I relent. _Professor_ Snape."

"Don't say it like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like-like it's a-a...fuck you Potter."

"Well jeez, Professor. If I were still a student, I'd reprimand your use of language..."

"Go back to the fiery depths of whatever hell you came from, demon spawn."

"Could I note that down as a form of endearment...?"

"_Excuse_ me?"

"Well, you seem fairly composed after what I confessed last session. I'm assuming this is your way of admitting your own pure hearted feelings for me?"

"You confessed something?"

"Yessir!"

"I recall no such confession, now sit down so we can get this bloody hour over with."

"Avoiding the subject are we? How cute."

"_Sit down_, Mr. Potter."

"Alright, alright! You don't have to get all affronted about it!"

"And _stay_ seated. Now then, where did we leave off last?"

"I _think_ it had to do with me...on a bed...tied up and drizzled in choclate maybe?"

"It's not a bloody riddle you half-brained imbecilic _Gryffindor_. Where. Were. We?"

"So I've got _half_ a brain now? I think I'm getting smarter!"

"Stop bloody smiling! Would it kill you to actually do something correctly for once?"

"Alright, alright...I was gardening when I was...ummm...eight? Eleven?"

"You were nine, Mr. Potter."

"If you remembered it, why make me tell you?"

"It's called participation, Potter, you get graded on it."

"I'm being graded in a therapy session? That's just twisted...Oh! Is it roleplay?"

"Excuse me?"

"Like, 'I'm the naughty school boy and you need to punish me' type thing? Oooh, kinky one Professor. Nice."

"If you could keep your mind out of the gutter for just a minute, Potter! It was just an expression. Can we continue? Or do you need to get it out of your system before we continue?"

"...Do I get to choose how I get it out of my system?"

"Why are you leering at me like that, Potter? And no."

"Aaaw, no reason. What do I do now?"

"...If we can _continue,_-"

"By all means, Professor!"

"-you are going to take this rough rendition of you as a doll and whenever I ask you a question, you will attach a different facial expression that corresponds with what you feel."

"Eh...really? Cause that sounds kinda...stupid."

"Of course not, Potter, we are continuing what we started last week."

"Which was...?"

"Since it appears you are a so far hopeless case, I may as well repeat the instructions."

"Oh please do! Please!"

"Stop gushing, it's obviously fake. I will give you an age and you will describe, in _detail_, whatever happenstance occured then."

"Any specific time? Or do I choose?"

"Are you truly as stupid as you're sounding?"

"Evidently so..."

"Yes, Potter, you choose whatever date."

"So then...where does the therapy take place? I mean, it doesn't seem like spilling all my life's stories to you will change what's already happened...right?"

"Of course it won't change what's already come to pass, you dolt, but from my experience, it helps to talk with someone."

"Even if that person hates your guts?"

"They say that you should keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."

"Isn't that a muggle phrase?"

"Not relevant. Now then, age 7."

"Umm...I guess..."

"There is no guessing, Potter. Either it happened, or it didn't."

"Alright! Cool it! Isn't this _my_ time to lament and wallow in self-pity?"

"I never said self-pity was allowed. Continue."

"Jeez, who shoved your wand up your arse this morning?"

"_Continue_, Mr. Potter. Age 7."

"Okay, okay. Let's see...age 7 was when Petunia decided that I should start cooking dinner along with breakfast, which I had already been doing."

"Any particular occasion that wounds your soul?"

"Well, if you put it that way, there _was_ the time when she didn't like how the thanksgiving turkey was cooked and stuck me in the boiler room to eh...prove a point?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Well...I didn't really get how stuffing me in a boiler room did anything besides make me lose ten pounds in sweat...maybe she was having me be the turkey and the boiler room the oven?"

"Can you describe what you felt during this ordeal?"

"Sure, I guess...It was hot. Really hot. Like...almost touching the sun hot."

"I don't think you'd be alive had it been that hot, Potter."

"Look, that's how it felt. Can I keep going? Or are you going to keep interjecting? Just because you mean something to me, doesn't mean I'll always let you get away with belittling my abusive childhood."

"You may continue, I'll...attempt to curb my impulses."

"Thank you, now then. Where was I...? Oh yes, hot like the sun boiler room. Well, I remember being completely confused. Like: 'Why is this happening to me?' kind of thing. I was at the age where I understood that I was being punished, for something, but I didn't understand why. It was then, I think, that started me thinking that I was just a mistake all around. Before that, I had been a bit angry and befuddled as to why I wasn't given any food or locked in my cupboard for a few days straight. But then...it occured to me that..._I_ was what was wrong. That my entire existence was causing all this strife and anger, so I stopped asking why, I just...accepted it."

"Hmmm...I see. Do you still believe that?"

"Huh?"

"Do you still believe that you were a mistake? And that you deserve everything bad that happens to you?"

"...I really don't know, Professor. I don't know. Sometimes I feel like that's true, that's it's divine retribution for a past life crime. But then..."

"Then?"

"Then I think of you."

"...I must be getting old, can you repeat that? I'm afraid I misheard you."

"It's you, Sir, that reminds me that I'm not the cause for everything. That it's not all my fault."

"And...how is that?"

"Because you torture scared little first years."

"Excuse me?"

"When I first came to Hogwarts, I was already exhausted with everyone treating me like some huge fucking deal. It felt like another punishment. Then, in my very first potion's class, you terrified the shit out of me. At first, I thought it was another case of retribution, but then I saw you treat everyone else the same way, excepting the Slytherins of course. But I realized then, perhaps not conciously, that not _everything_ was my fault. There existed merciless and dastardly Potions Masters who hated everyone quite equally, me a bit more than the others but that hardly mattered, and...it _wasn't my fault."_

"...So then..._I'm_ the reason you're not constantly bashing your head against a wall like a bloody house elf?"

"That's right!"

"Well then...this session is concluded. You may leave."

"Oh, Sir?"

"Yes, Potter? Do you need something?"

"Well, about what I said last week..."

"_Yes?_"

"You don't need to sigh over it, I get enough of that from people who adore me anyways."

"_Your_ point, Potter? Or I'm leaving and you won't hear from me until out next, regretful, session."

"I meant it, you know. It wasn't just something I blurted out to get the last word in. I really do love you."

"Indeed, should I be jumping for joy?"

"...Well...I suppose I was expecting a bit more of a reaction...like denial? Why are you smirking?"

"Because, Potter, not all words need to be spoken."

"E-excuse m-"

* * *

And that was how Harry Potter finally got the Potions Master. For those of you who need explanation, the reason why Harry was cut off was because his mouth was being *ahem* invaded. *cackle*

I wasn't sure if I was going to post a second part to Therapy with Snape, then I realized that...it needed a resolution. So a resolution was typed, under the influence of cold pills and a glass of sickly sweetened iced coffee in one sitting. Was not betaed, that's sadly obvious, but I did my best not to have too many mistakes. Tell me if you liked it! Or I'll sneak into your room at night and kneel by your head to whisper nonsensical phrases, including, but not limited to: random Shakespearean insults, Dr. Suess rhymes, church doctrine, and quotes from the Princess Bride/Doctor Who. And don't think I can't find where you live! I have all three books of Steig Larson's epic computer hacking genius, Lisbeth Salander! I'll figure something out...*mutter mutter*

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you could sue me for, probably including my existence...though my dearest mother has claim to that one, so you'll have to go through her! (But don't expect a fight, she's got a boy and a girl who look like me of the same age, so she won't miss one...or so she delights in telling me...I love you too mommy.)


End file.
